


Boat Races, Boat Races, Let's Get Fucked Up!

by wheremyinhalerat (bearsquares)



Series: Cracked Actors ['06 Losers AU one-shots] [3]
Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: AU, Adult Losers Club (IT), Banter, Bisexuality, Drinking Games, Drunk Sex, F/M, Flip cup, Fuck the Police, M/M, Multi, NSFW Art, One-Shot, Oral Sex, PWP, Polyamory, Vaginal Sex, humor???, i wrote this in one sitting, poly losers club
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-17 22:59:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13669092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bearsquares/pseuds/wheremyinhalerat
Summary: Boozy game night at Bev's. Competitive Flip cup. Sore Loser Lingerie equipped. Eddie puts her to bed. Weird, horny 30 year olds just wanna have fun, etc.Direct follow up from the previous part of this trash heap of a series.





	Boat Races, Boat Races, Let's Get Fucked Up!

**Author's Note:**

> Eddie and Beverly fuck. Full-stop.  
> Also, if anyone else has written Eddie going down on Beverly before, please point me to it. For the love of god. Please.  
> If not, here’s that. I’ll be that guy...again.
> 
>  
> 
> My 2017 timeline AUs are so fucking loose, I just list it as a formality at this point.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> **NSFW art @ the bottom. I have 0 self-control. SORRY. (I'm not.)**

 

 

Eddie was surprised that anyone was keeping score. Richie never paid attention to the rules so he just let the others yell at him if he fucked up and they usually had Stan micromanaging everything (even after a few too many) but he wasn’t much use that night, either. Beverly was just plain wasted.

Wasted but winning.

_I should make her a shirt...that says that on it._

Richie was technically winning, too, but it was only because he won the coin toss and got to pair up with her.

Beverly didn’t wear the “Sore Loser Lingerie” by itself. Earlier that day, she vehemently argued that wearing more lingerie underneath didn’t violate the rule. It was a perfect loophole since none of the guys owned a white slip. Richie tried to argue with her about it, but Beverly ended up threatening to whip his ass with a metal spatula (“It has holes in it! Less wind resistance!”). Still, the visual itself was enough for the three of them to sneak little glances at her every few seconds. Eddie personally felt conflicted about it since they were across from each other and he kept turning his head so he could see around the rim of his cup. Stan may have felt a little shame as well, but it was hard to tell with him sometimes. Richie had at least 10 Solo cups hurled at his head for spacing out and making “comments”.

An elbow jabbing into his side jolted Eddie out of his thoughts. “Go, damnit!” Stan grumbled at him.

“Fuck!” He tossed 1/3rd of a cup of Corona down his throat - it may have been El Presidente, he had no idea. “Shit!” Eddie set it precisely on the edge of the table and knocked the bottom upwards.

“Perfect flip, you dick!” Richie said into his cup.

“Oh my god,” Beverly whacked his arm. “Quit fucking around!”

They were in the heat of a college drinking game like it was normal for a couple of 30 year olds with serious jobs - adults who paid taxes and voted and all kinds of shit they never really worried about as students. To be fair, it was great fun for Eddie since he spent the least amount of time in higher education. He didn’t need very much of it in his line of work. “I have plenty of philosophical discussions with whatever rich motherfucker I’m driving around Manhattan.” He said one day. It was true - they were bored and wouldn’t shut up for the most part.

“OWNED!”

Beverly and Richie double high-fived while Eddie was mushed against Stan’s chest in a fond headlock. He kind of loved it when he did that - he always smelled really nice and he was pleasantly soft for someone so lean-muscled. Any excuse to throw himself across Stan was a good excuse, Eddie found.

“I can go again,” Richie slurred a little.

“No, you fucking can’t.” Eddie’s voice was muffled against Stan’s shirt, but he did his best to sound antagonizing.

“Throw that cup at me and you’re dead, Tozier.” Stan said flatly. He let Eddie go.

“Can this be “Sore Winner Lingerie” for next time?” Beverly shoved Richie playfully in spite of her half-lidded eyes and slouching posture. “Then I can ogle you and nearly cost you a game of fuckin’...whatever we play.”

He grabbed her by the shoulders and kissed her smack on the lips. “I will wear it _without_ underwear for you, my little frat boy.”

She pushed his face away with one hand. “You’re such a shit, Richie.”

“Babe, you sound like every last one of my exes,” he sighed wistfully.

“Help me clean this up, Trashmouth.” Stan was drunk but still refused to wake up to a mess. It wouldn't have been a surprise if he got a little toasted after a rough day at work and scrubbed his bathroom floor with a toothbrush until he sobered up. “Eddie, take Bevvie to bed.”

_TAKE? TO BED?_

“Wh-what?”

“Put?” He ventured, stacking cups. “Put to bed?”

Eddie looked at Beverly who yawned behind her hand. The little night dress barely covered the tops of her thighs. _God, they’re nice thighs._

“I don’t need to be put to bed, Stan.” She crossed her arms and nearly tipped over. “But Eddie can come with me.”

The look Richie gave him was probably the worst thing Eddie had ever seen. He looked like a deranged Tex Avery cartoon - his eyes were almost as huge as they used to look behind his absurd childhood glasses. “Stop looking at me!” Richie burst out laughing, dropping several cups.

Everyone fooled around. It was a regular thing sober or not, but Eddie figured out that if he was drunk and ended up having a weird, sexually tense moment with any of the guys, he had no trouble taking it wherever he wanted. Based on what he actually remembered of those situations (which wasn’t a whole hell of a lot) he was pretty assertive - not domineering like Stan or Richie but certainly more uninhibited. Things were a little different with Beverly. Eddie would admit that he still got nervous about sex at 30 but if anyone said shit about it he would make them regret it immediately.

_I start getting a boner over Bev and act like a gawky virgin who’s never even held hands. One of us, stupid. That’s sexist and weird. It’s been well over a decade. Stop it._

The thought of having sex with her and fucking it up was still horrifying. But he was getting ahead of himself. And they’d done it before. He just never remembered how it got to that point and what he did to stop being a wuss about it.

Stan looked over his glasses at him. “Stop being a wuss.”

 _Oh_.

Eddie was the shortest of the guys but he could still lift Beverly pretty easily. It could have been drunk strength for all he knew. Either way, she put her arms around him and he wanted to throw himself off a balcony.

They were halfway down the hall. “I gotta use the - ...go pee.”

Eddie slowly set her down. “Did you forget the word “bathroom”?”

“Maybe so.” She didn’t bother turning the light on and shut the door.

He stood awkwardly for a moment, glancing back down the hallway. Beverly’s apartment was kind of weird - spacious, but weird. The hallway back to the bedrooms was long and popped out into her big, squarish living room so it was kind of like looking through the wrong end of a telescope. All he could see was the corner of the couch and the glass doors to her balcony. Any of them who lived in cities had fabulous digs and it always felt weird going home to his narrow townhouse in Sunnyside.

“Okay, I’m done.”

Eddie distractedly picked her back up. Her hands were still wet and smelled like soap - good soap, nice soap. It took him a solid few seconds to realize he was holding on to her ass. Her legs were around his waist. Her tits were pressed hard against his chest. He glanced down and realized the white slip was gone.

_Richie’s a genius. I’m a genius. We’re so smart, holy fuck._

“Fuck it.”

“Huh?”

The path from the bathroom to her bed was a total blur. The only thing Eddie cared about was dropping her on her back and standing at the side of her bed coiled up like a spring waiting for the fucking green light. His face must have given him away because Beverly fought back a laugh and held her arms out to him.

“Come here.”

_Green means go. Yes. Fuck yes._

Eddie Kaspbrak’s hands and knees were braced on either side of her and she pulled him down, joining their mouths together. Getting going was the issue, he recalled. Having sex with any of them was like riding a bike. Once he was there, once his tongue was in her mouth and she was gently biting his lower lip, things were fine - better than fine. You didn’t need to be in college or a bar to have sloppy, beer-flavored make-outs, so said Stan one time while they were doing something very similar. _Man, that was a good visit_.

“You -” Beverly paused against his lips. “Kiss like Richie when you’re drunk.”

He rested his forehead against hers for a moment. “That’s funny - he said the same thing. Like, exactly. Talking in...whatever person that is...saying his own name...is it third?”

She licked at the air and he swore quietly, catching her in a deep kiss. The gasp that came out of her when he pinched one of her nipples was pure gratification for him. Beverly reacted with her entire body, arching her hips up to his, shoving her tits against his hands, tilting her head back. “You’re so good, Eddie.” He couldn’t hold back a little grin while he kissed down to her collar. Something about being praised by her filled him with a dumb, raw happiness and he’d do anything to hear it over and over. Eddie dragged his tongue over the thin, airy fabric covering her breasts. “Oh, god…” _Better. Do better._ He took her nipple between his teeth. He got the high-pitched whine he was looking for. “I fucking love you.”

He kept it up, somehow, while he undid his belt and worked his pants down to his bent knees. She took his face between her hands and kissed him hard, smiling at him desperately wriggling his clothes off.

“What are you thinking?”

Eddie blushed but his voice was level. “I’m gonna go down on you,” he kissed her. “First of all.”

It was Beverly’s turn to go bright red. He could easily see it in the dark. “So far so good.” She was stroking his cheeks and if he weren’t mind-numbingly horny, he would have been very touched by the gesture.

“I like you on top, don’t I?”

She took a shallow breath. “Probably.”

“Sounds good.”

She mumbled in agreement while he flipped the ruffled fringe of her negligee up and ducked down between her legs. In most cases (Mike and Bill excluded), Eddie didn’t waste time screwing around. He smoothly yanked her panties off and tossed them, seamlessly moving to push her thighs back and apart.

The first time he went down on her was terrible and he hated that it wasn’t one of the memories that disappeared. That was back when he was still kind of freaking out about mouth germs and the unavoidable messy parts of sex. It served as a reminder, he supposed. He used the flat of his tongue first - he had a little bit of a system and why shouldn’t he when he knew exactly what she liked? _You’ve come a long way, Eddie_.

When Beverly told him that some guys, and even some girls, couldn’t figure out where the clit was and _stay there_ , Eddie took it to heart. He figured it out. It was force of habit to hold eye contact with her, watching for the reaction he wanted - the exact right place. You wouldn’t hang a picture without measuring first. Richie called him a nerd for overthinking eating a girl out but that idiot always ended up with a sore jaw and left a bunch of saliva running down to her butt. Eddie, on the other hand, prided himself in keeping things tight. He carefully tested her out and waited for her eyes to close and her mouth to drop open before he did anything else.

He poked the tip of his tongue inside of her before licking messily back up to her clit.

“Jesus fucking Christ, you’re a good boy -”

 _God, yes_. “I love it when you say that.”

“Oh, that’s righ-HIGHT!” Beverly’s voice went up an octave and couldn’t stop himself from grinning proudly between licks. “It’s hard to keep everyone’s - AH!”

“Shush, Bevvie.”

“S-sorry.”

He slicked her down quicker, kissing her, putting pressure in just the right places, and she began tugging on his hair, pulling him closer. Beverly was breathing hard while she writhed underneath him and her heels were braced against his shoulders, hips angled up perfectly. It couldn’t have been more than a few minutes.

“Good boy, Eddie,” she panted. Her hips were bucking ever so slightly and he chose that second to slide two fingers into her. “Oh god, fuck, I’m -”

Eddie wrapped his free arm tight around her thigh and she pulled his hair a little too hard, crying out loudly while he continued swiping his tongue against her clit. He glanced up just long enough to see her arch her back and memorize the perfect curves of her breasts. Making Beverly Marsh come that hard was one of the few moments of insufferable masculine smugness he allowed himself. A little groan worked its way out between her loud, ecstatic gasps when he drew his fingers out of her. She was mindlessly stroking his hair while he held her still as she came down.

“Let go of my ass, wipe your mouth, and get on your fucking back.”

His eyes went wide. He began sweating. Her bedroom must have been 90 degrees. _Neck-snapping role reversal_. _Burning alive._

It took him a second to fully register her commands before he was throwing himself onto his back and groping for his discarded shirt. Eddie hadn’t even finished scrubbing at his mouth before she was straddling him and frotting down against his cock. He was fully hard almost instantly. “I’m good, I’m good, can I -”

Whatever he was about to say was snuffed out when she covered his mouth with hers. Beverly lifted her hips enough to line him up and broke away loudly to sit back on him - he could have fucking died. After hanging out with Richie so much, Eddie had almost forgotten what it was like to actually be inside of another person. Topping Richie was a knock-down drag-out fight and it just wasn’t worth the hassle most of the time. Dear sweet Beverly, however, was perfectly happy riding his cock and he loved her so much for it. It filled him with a certain lovely pressure that he could only describe as the world’s greatest kick in the chest.

“Geez,” he ground out.

The disheveled smile she gave him, her hair mussed and wild, was probably the sexiest thing he’d seen since the last time she fucked him. _Go figure_. “Did you just say “geez”?”

“Don’t razz me,” Eddie moaned, thrusting up a little harder. She leaned forward on her hands, only letting him thrust halfway in. “Ah, c’mon - you’re killing me.”

“I’m gonna come,” she whimpered.

Before he could say something stupid like “again?!”, Eddie bit down on his tongue and cupped her breasts. He watched her face in slack-jawed amazement while she hit her second climax, struggling to keep his hips in an even cant. She tried to bite her lip and keep her mouth closed but she was panting too hard and ragged. The way she fluidly moved on top of him, perfectly relaxed and stuttering out all kinds of filth had him seconds away from finishing. He was done for.

“You feel so fucking good. I’ll take your cock anywhere - any fucking time, I swear the fuck to god I’ll do it -” she blurted. “Whenever you fucking want me - _hard as you want_.”

 _Please let me forget that, I won't be able to leave my house ever again_. “Bev -”

“I love you, Eddie.”

He wanted to ask her to stop interrupting him so he could warn her about getting one off, but all he could manage was a loud, stifled grunt. His vision went fuzzy and he was probably cussing weakly under his breath - maybe he managed to return her sentiment, he had no idea. Her hands were on his slight chest like half-hearted CPR while she jerked her hips a few more times.

She finally bent at the waist, flopping forward to shove her face against his neck.

He heard her make a delirious _aaagh_ sound into the blankets and they both giggled a little, still catching their breath. The ceiling fan was clicking loudly and Eddie realized his legs were cold - the room was freezing and he had sobered up enough to realize it.

He hugged her around the waist, nuzzling against her hair. “I love you, too, Bevvie.” She blindly kissed the side of his face and Eddie sighed contentedly. It was rare for it to be just the two of them so damn him for getting a little mushy about it. It was even worse with Ben.

“I thought I was going to find one of you tied up or something, goddamn.”

He lazily turned his head to look at Richie’s cartoonish silhouette leaning against the door frame in nothing but his pajama pants. His hair was severely fucked up. “Tell Stan he’s an artist.” Richie mouthed an incredulous “what?” at him. “We’re putting you in the MoMA, you fucking muppet.”

Beverly sputtered an ugly laugh next to him. There was a loud snort from the bathroom as well. Richie flung his hands into the air, strolling over to them. “Enough out of you, pup. Let this poor girl go.”

“Oh,” he drew his arms back to his sides. “Sorry, Bevvie.” She shook her head and kissed his forehead before carefully crawling off of him. He was a total sucker for that and she knew it. _God_. _Kill me_.

“Whoa, what?! Sexy see-through dress ON?! Bareback!?” Richie sounded like an offended grandmother. “Wuh-...why does Eddie?!”

“Why does Richie?” Beverly shot back, walking stiffly past him.

“ _Why_ do I win at Flip cup and get crapped on? That is some goddamn bullshit and you know it.”

 

One thing everyone in the Losers Club had in common, aside from partial memory loss, was an oversized bed that could reasonably fit seven people. They had to get creative in the rare event that all seven of them actually got together but it usually wasn’t a problem. That night, Eddie took the opportunity to sleep on the end next to Stan who, along with Ben and Mike, served as a perfect barrier between the light sleepers and the chattier folks. Richie, naturally, claimed a middle spot and refused to shut up until he was done catching up with whoever else was still awake - the typical “last person asleep at a sleepover”. Beverly could coax him into whispering, at least. He wasn’t nearly as squawky as he was when they were kids, but he still had an excitable way about him. Eddie was admittedly curious about how Richie acted on his own. _He needs his own nature documentary_. _I bet Bill has David Attenborough’s number_.

“What are we gonna do tomorrow, Bevvie?” Richie’s whisper was as quiet as one would expect.

“I don’t know if I can process tomorrow right now.”

“Hey, can we go to that diner and sit at the counter and look hungover?”

Stan grumbled. “We’re going to _be_ hungover.”

“With that attitude.”

“Can I suggest something, Stan?” Eddie asked quietly. He felt Stan nod next to him. “Maybe have Richie do more with his mouth next time you get a chance -”

“Yeah? Why don’t you double-bag it next time?”

“Richie, please,” Beverly groaned.

Eddie hummed thoughtfully. “Let’s all get ball-gags.” Stan shook with suppressed laughter.

“Yeah, you’ve gotten off enough good ones for one night, Edward, don’t quit your day job. Time for beddie-bye.” There was a dull smacking noise. “Staniel. Ow. Why?”

“Fuck you, that’s why.”

“ _Knave_.”

“I’m going to kick all of you out if you don’t shut the fuck up.”

“...Sorry.”

“Sorry, Bev.”

“Shutting the fuck up.”

“Thank you.”

 

 

\---

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Alternatively, you can turn this into a CYOA. Just paste this after "The only thing Eddie cared about was dropping her on her back and standing at the side of her bed coiled up like a spring waiting for the fucking green light.":
> 
> Beverly curled up on her side and began snoozing. Eddie stumbled out into the hallway and curled into the fetal position. He was found passed out in a puddle of his own tears 20 minutes later. 
> 
> "This is a broken man." Stan muttered solemnly. Richie blessed his crumpled up carcass with a reverent, papal gesture.
> 
> THE END.
> 
>  
> 
> ...I'm sorry. Anyway.
> 
>  
> 
> I've actually had Eddie/Bev oral in one of my novel-based fics for a REALLY LONG TIME but I guess this series of whatevers beat 'em to it. I have legitimately never seen it written, implied or depicted ever in my life. The Edverly sex dynamic is underrated as fuck and will never stop being underrated but hey I'm here for whoever wants it. Full Poly Losers Support Group. Meeting every other Tuesday. Let's heal together.
> 
> bearsquares @ tumblr main  
> chilidogpaella @ art blog
> 
> yell at me.


End file.
